The Tennis Incident
by Elf Asato
Summary: [Written for Sariyuki's 38 Incidents Project] Hakkai attempts to teach Sanzo how to play tennis...


**Title:** The Tennis Incident  
**Author:** Elf Asato  
**Summary:** [Hakkai's POV] Hakkai teaches Sanzo how to play tennis...  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine whatsoever.  
**Notes:** This was written for Sariyuki's 38 Incidents Project. _Incident_ally (I'm cheesy), this whole incident was inspired by a talk Sariyuki, hakkai-san, and I had about tennis. Pete Sampras and Andre Agassi, whoo.   
  


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**The Tennis Incident**  
_By Elf Asato_  
=========

  
  
The line that started it all was simple, direct, and, therefore, stated by Gojyo.  
  
"Goku, you're fat."  
  
That morning at the breakfast table, Goku had been wolfing down food nonstop, anything and everything he could find (Sanzo had sacrificed his meatbun for the good of mankind), and the inn we had stayed at was kind enough to not throw us out due to the fact that Goku nearly exhausted the kitchen's ready supply of food. Like always, Gojyo argued with our monkey over his over consumption, but that morning... Well, he decided to take a different approach.  
  
"F-fat? What do you mean? I'm not fat!" Goku protested with wide eyes.  
  
"Hmm, you look a little chubby to me..." Gojyo smirked, enjoying the apparent rise he was getting out of Goku. With a wink, he turned and said to me, "What do _you_ think, Hakkai?"  
  
Even if I wanted to respond (either by egging the future argument on or putting it to rest before it spiraled into something worse), I hadn't the opportunity. Goku rounded on me quickly, "Hakkai! Tell Gojyo I'm not fat!"  
  
"Ha! And what's this?" Gojyo asked with a smile, pinching the monkey's cheeks. "Fat! What'd I tell ya? You're fat, Goku."  
  
Goku stood up quickly - that was a sign that the argument was to be heated in a few seconds - and retorted, "Those are my cheeks! They're _supposed_ to be there!"  
  
"Oh? But what about the rest of us? You know, the non-fat portion of this group? _Our_ cheeks aren't fat like that."  
  
Soon enough, Goku requested my assistance again. "Hakkai! Make him stop!"  
  
"Erm," was my terribly articulate response as I weighed the pros and cons of feeding the argument or killing it quickly. On the one hand, it was always interesting to see what the two would do and say to one another, but on the other...  
  
Well, the other was _Sanzo_.  
  
During the entire exchange, our wayward priest had sat at the table in silence, simply reading the newspaper and ignoring us all while occasionally sipping tea. The usual, you know. He emerged from his stillness to remark gruffly, "Goku, you're not fat, and Gojyo, stop it."  
  
"Oh well," Gojyo murmured as he stole a lone and forgotten half of a meatbun Goku had left on his plate. "Fun while it lasted..."  
  
It was Goku, though, who insisted on continuing with the 'fat' subject. "...Are you sure, Sanzo?" he asked curiously, looking down at his stomach and making it scrunch up with his hands. "I _do_ eat a lot."  
  
"_I'll_ say," remarked a waitress in passing.  
  
Sanzo rather ignored Goku and simply muttered, "Hakkai, do something." To not instantly go for his harisen, he must have been in a good mood. Er, as good a mood as Sanzo ever got, in any case.  
  
I sighed, but kept a steady smile. "Goku, you've been blessed with an amazing metabolism, so I doubt that, no matter what or how much you eat, you will _ever_ become fat."  
  
"But I _feel_ fat..." Goku murmured, poking at his stomach again.  
  
Ah, the power of suggestion.  
  
However, I had an idea. "Well, if you feel so fat, why don't you work it off by some exercise?"  
  
"Exercise is boring," he muttered simply as he turned his attention back to his plate, noticing for the first time that his half of a meatbun was not where he had left it...and that the not-quite-innocent _cockroach_ had taken it. "Hey, jerkwad, give it _back_!"  
  
Gojyo leaned from the table with the meatbun still half in his mouth, trying to escape the monkey who had lunged over to try and take it from him. "You're too fat for it!" he managed as he grabbed the meatbun and held it out further in an effort to both save the meatbun and taunt Goku.  
  
"Argh, _shut up_!" Goku growled as he lunged for the meatbun again, almost tipping Gojyo's chair over.  
  
None of us, though, had quite seen Sanzo's patience decreasing swiftly during the entire exchange until he cocked his gun and muttered testily, "_Do you two want to die?_"  
  
The monkey and the cockroach froze, each giving the other one final glare before settling back into their respective seats. Gojyo took the opportunity to finish eating the stolen meatbun.  
  
Only with the banishing gun back in the comfort of Sanzo's robes did I begin to chuckle lightly, sipping my tea. Honestly, with the way they carried on, those two burned plenty of calories on their own, and the idea of Goku becoming fat was ridiculous; his metabolism was just amazing...  
  
"What are you laughing about?" Sanzo demanded, almost absently, as he went back to reading the newspaper. Goku and Gojyo kept quiet, but began to make faces at one another.  
  
I merely smiled at him, though, and stated, "They're amusing."  
  
"They're annoying, that's what they are," he growled before shutting us off again. But unlike when he addressed the other two, his voice held no hint of true anger or annoyance.  
  
Over our time together, I've interpreted this as a sign that he at least finds me halfway decent. That's saying something, perhaps.  
  
I hadn't realized that I had been gazing somewhat fondly at Sanzo until I heard Goku whisper to his partner in crime (although, 'whisper' implied that Goku was at all capable of being quiet), "Psst, look, he's staring at him."  
  
"He's probably thinking of how skinny Sanzo is. You know, the corrupt monk hardly eats anything."  
  
"Yeah, but he ate _all_ of his breakfast that Hakkai cooked for us yesterday morning... Sanzo _rarely_ eats all of his meal."  
  
"...Unless Hakkai cooks it."  
  
How embarrassing, for them to carry on like we weren't even in the room. And especially saying things like _that_.  
  
"Hey, you're right! Sanzo _does_ eat anything Hakkai makes for him. He didn't use to do that, did he?"  
  
I stared at them, a subtle hint to let them know that _I could hear_. However, this apparently did nothing to stop them.  
  
"Mm, I dunno. I think it's a fairly recent development."  
  
In a vain attempt at subtlety, I cleared my throat and gave them a fairly piercing glare.  
  
"What do you think it means, Gojyo?"  
  
"Nothing _you_ would understand, monkey boy."  
  
"What?" (here Goku's voice shed the mockery of a whisper) "What do you mean by that, _cockroach head_? What wouldn't I understand?"  
  
"_Adult_ things," said Gojyo as he still held onto a whisper.  
  
At that moment, the top of Sanzo's newspaper lowered as he gave them what Goku always tells me is his 'glare-of-doom', as if challenging the two to continue on with their 'secret' conversation.  
  
Goku paid no attention to this, however, as he exclaimed, positively perplexed, "What's so _adult_ about eating good food?!"  
  
"You wouldn't understand, Goku, because..."  
  
"Because _why_?!"  
  
Out the corner of my eye, I could see Sanzo lowering the newspaper fully, his trigger finger twitching...  
  
Gojyo saw this, too, but took the chance anyway.  
  
"Because you're _fat_," he said and immediately ducked.  
  
"That's _it_," Sanzo growled - his voice was angry this time - as he reached for his gun, and at the same time Goku wailed at how he _wasn't_ fat. Again, Gojyo couldn't resist and called him "fatso" from underneath the table.  
  
Not wanting to explain to the innkeeper why his table would be full of bullets soon, I piped up quickly, "A game!"  
  
If there _was_ some truth to the conversation Goku and Gojyo had about Sanzo and myself, whatever truth that may be, it was on display yet again as our monk stopped - the gun out and ready - and looked at me. "...A what?"  
  
"A _game_," I repeated as I struggled to come up with a quick answer for why I said it. "Ah, well, we're all so tense here that it might be a good idea for us to let all that out by a...uh, friendly game. Besides, in the not-likely case that Goku's metabolism _does_ slow down when he's older - Goku, you're not fat, Gojyo's just teasing you - he'll have a nice activity to resort to in keeping healthy."  
  
Goku immediately brightened at this suggestion. "Games are fun! Sanzo, can we play? Can we? _Can we?_"  
  
"Hn, sure," Sanzo muttered gruffly as he quickly turned back to his forgotten newspaper, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole situation.  
  
"Well whaddya know?" Gojyo said softly in mock astonishment as he smiled at me.  
  


---

  
A few hours and a little hard work later, our party stood outside in between two homemade tennis courts as Gojyo and I attempted to explain the game of tennis to our two companions.  
  
"Well, you see, it's like this," Gojyo began. We had agreed that giving them an oversimplified version of the rules and whatnot was best. "See that little bouncy ball Hakkai has in his hand? Well, the object of the game is to hit that little ball over the net with the racquet I have in my hand."  
  
Goku shifted impatiently. "Is that all? This game is _easy_!"  
  
"Er, in our very simplistic version, yes, it _is_ easy," I answered in hopes that this would be an enjoyable experience for us all.  
  
As Gojyo hit his palm against the racquet, he added, "And for scoring --"  
  
"Ah, Gojyo, let's not use scoring just yet..." I interjected, not wanting this to turn into something awful and competitive, like it had a chance of becoming with a certain duo playing. "Everyone understand so far?"  
  
Goku nodded enthusiastically while Sanzo muttered a lackluster, "Sure."  
  
"Let's get this game started, then!" Gojyo announced, a hint of the all-too familiar competitive spirit shining through. "How shall we play, Hakkai? Doubles? Singles?"  
  
A few thoughts crossed my mind, making the decision relatively simple. "Singles, just so they can practice the game better. Gojyo, teach Goku how to play, and...I'll teach Sanzo."  
  
That _knowing_ smile Gojyo gave as he picked up a spare ball and carted Goku off was almost annoying.  
  
As Sanzo picked up his racquet, I headed over to the other side of the net with the ball. "Now Sanzo, there are different techniques for hitting the ball, but I want you to just try a few times on your own..." He didn't answer, but he still held the racquet in his hands, which I took to be a sign that he would still play. I bounced the ball once before slowly and lightly hitting it over the net.  
  
The ball bounced right in front of him, and it was a perfect opportunity for an easy hit...only, Sanzo didn't attempt anything except a halfhearted swing long after the ball had rolled off somewhere.  
  
"Er, Sanzo, the object of the game is to _hit_ the ball..."  
  
An apathetic "ch" was all he grunted as he turned and went after the ball in a _painfully_ slow walk. In the adjacent court, Goku and Gojyo volleyed rather nicely, only, it seemed that Goku was primarily concerned with hitting _Gojyo_ with the ball... At least they were having fun.  
  
Sanzo came back and tossed the ball as I tried to figure out what to say to him. I vaguely imagined he was angry at me because I made him leave his gun in the room...  
  
"Ah, well, try it again," I managed as I bounced the ball and hit it lightly again.  
  
This time he at least made the _attempt_ (as stiff and awkward as it was), and, well, that was all that mattered, I guess. He sighed and slowly went after the ball again.  
  
When he came back, I crossed over to his side of the court and assured, "At first this game can be a little difficult, Sanzo, but you just have to keep your eye on the ball. You'll get better with practice."  
  
He stared at me a few moments before surprising me with, "How do I hit it?"  
  
"Well, you just go through a smooth motion, and..." I tried to demonstrate, but then it occurred to me that helping him do it might be best. "Here," I said as I put down my racquet and came behind him with the ball. He looked back at me as if he had no idea what I was doing...but he let me do it anyway.  
  
From behind, I lined my arms against his, taking his hand and racquet into mine, into what probably looked like an awkward embrace. "Like this," I said as my arm guided his through a smooth execution. "See?"  
  
Sanzo broke free of my hold and swung the racquet in a stiff and halted movement, growling slightly as soon as it was over.  
  
"Ah, perhaps I know what your problem is..." I offered as he continued to look away. Without seeing his face, I could only hope that walking on eggshells wasn't necessary. "You're too tense... You need to relax a little, Sanzo, and then you'll be able to hit it efficiently..."  
  
He finally looked back at me...barely...and I saw his one eye gleam oddly. "Are you saying I'm inefficient?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
I heard him growl again slightly and finally ask, "Okay, how do I relax and hit the ball?"  
  
"Well, if you relax first and then try to hit the ball, you'll just tense up again...so why don't we relax _while_ hitting it?" I suggested as my arms moved over his again, and, surprisingly, he let me. Perhaps it was because he hated inefficient things. My chin rested on his shoulder gently as I attempted to catch a glimpse of his facial expression; it always spoke volumes of his mood...  
  
His eyes were...startlingly compliant...  
  
Perhaps my 'inefficient' remark hit closer than I thought.  
  
"Now, just _ease_ into the motion..." I murmured softly into his ear as I bent my knees slightly and guided him through a smooth, fluid motion with the racquet. Sanzo was rather stiff, though - stiffer than before - so I suppose it ended up with me simply grinding into him a bit and him moving only slightly.  
  
If I weren't so frustrated with him, I probably would have been somewhat embarrassed.  
  
"Sanzo, _relax_."  
  
"I'm _trying_," he said, his voice curt.  
  
I sighed. "Well, you're obviously not trying hard _enough_..."  
  
"...This is hard," and he tensed further.  
  
"So hard that _Sanzo_ cannot adequately perform it?"  
  
He held his tongue and let me tell him that we'd try it again, one last time.  
  
As he leaned against me slightly, it only took a moment before I felt him beginning to relax, and at that moment, I took him through what felt like a flawless execution. When we had completed it, I said warmly to the side of his face that I could see, "That was a wonderful job you did of relaxing like that. If you did just that on your own, you could land some very nice hits, Sanzo."  
  
Perhaps this embarrassed him because he only looked away from me further.  
  
"Oi, you two," came Gojyo's loud voice, shattering all sense of peace, as he smiled broadly, "don't you think you should get a _room_ or somethi--OW! What was _that_ for, you goddamn idiot monkey?!"  
  
Any further embarrassment was immediately dispelled as I couldn't help but laugh. While Gojyo's attention was elsewhere, Goku had smacked him upside the head with the ball.  
  
"You didn't _move_, so it's _your_ fault!" Goku responded with glee as he smiled widely in his success at actually _hitting_ his opponent.  
  
"I wasn't _looking_!"  
  
"_So?_"  
  
"You're not supposed to do that!" Then Gojyo turned back towards us. "Hakkai, tell him not to--"  
  
But before anything else was said, Sanzo instructed, his trigger finger twitching all the while, "Hit him _again_, Goku!"  
  
With those two suddenly busy, I picked up my racquet and turned to Sanzo once again, asking with good humor, "Think you can manage on your own?"  
  
"Yeah," was all he said as he shot one last glance at Goku chasing Gojyo around for control of the ball ("Give it to me!" "_No_!") before returning to position on his side of the court.  
  
I made my way over with the ball to my end and tossed it up into the air before hitting it gently over the net. In the process I had forgotten that I had opted to do away with scoring and said "love" to indicate our scores of zero. This, apparently, was a mistake.  
  
"What?" Sanzo asked quickly, a hint of an edge on his voice as he missed the ball entirely.  
  
It was my fault, so I apologized and explained to him that love was zero in tennis. He accepted this with silence, though he _did_ shoot me a curious look, and went to fetch the ball. When he tossed it back to me, I apologized again and served it lightly over the net.  
  
For the first time, Sanzo hit in a smooth, easy motion, and I almost missed the ball myself in bouncing it back to him. We volleyed for a bit until the ball took a wayward turn into the net due to an odd angle I had hit it at.  
  
I retrieved the ball and was about to ask Sanzo if he wanted to serve when Goku ran up to us and asked in one breath, "Hey Sanzo, can we eat? I'm _starving_."  
  
Gojyo walked at a leisurely pace behind and added, "_Anything_ to stop."  
  
"What, can't handle the _game_?" Sanzo remarked, seeming antagonistic and smug at once as a thin smirk crossed his faced.  
  
"_You_ try playing with Goku, baldy."  
  
Goku protested immediately, "Hey, I'm not a bad player!"  
  
"No, but you don't _play_ it right," Gojyo argued.  
  
"You're just jealous I hit you three times!"  
  
"You weren't supposed to hit me _at all_!"  
  
Sanzo interjected the argument early with slight annoyance, "We'll break for lunch if you two can _shut up_."  
  
"All right!" Goku cheered as he ran off ahead with his racquet in hand, and Gojyo, muttering sarcastically about how all the food in the village would be gone by the time _we_ caught up with him, followed after.  
  
I went to take down our makeshift nets and thankfully Sanzo stayed to help because it probably would have taken me more than one trip back to the inn otherwise. "That was a nice experience, wasn't it?"  
  
"I guess," he replied dully; whether or not he actually enjoyed it was uncertain.  
  
With him carrying the nets (letting a small part of it drag on the ground, much to my annoyance) and me handling our ball and racquets, we began to take the equipment back.  
  
A bit into our trek, the comfortable silence between us was broken sharply with a seemingly simple word:  
  
"Love."  
  
One of the racquets nearly slipped out of my grip at that. "...What?"  
  
"Love," Sanzo repeated strangely with his eyes cast to the sky, "it's a score of zero in tennis."  
  
I tilted my head up to experience what he saw and replied softly, "...So it is."   
  


**End**

  
  



End file.
